Demon Plague (2)
The party hurried after Ruel. Demon Plague? Kenis, at least, had never heard of any such disease.
Picking up her pace, she asked Ruel,
"Ruel, what even is the Demon Plague? Have you heard of it?"
"Hah—huff—huh? Nope, I don't know either, huff—!"
"Just from the name, doesn't it sound like your body turns into a demon? Like a parasite growing a demon inside you."
At Friga's words, Kenis's face darkened.
She looked down at her palm. The hands that had once tried to swallow her whole, the screams… the moments she had come so close to becoming a demon herself…
Seeing Kenis's expression fall, Friga looked thoroughly mortified.
"Ah—no. Hey, I wasn't talking about you. This is—ugh, damn it. This mouth of mine never knows when to shut up."
Friga smacked her own lips a couple of times. At the sight of it, Kenis managed a small smile.
"…It's all right, my lady. I have no intention of denying that moment, and I have no intention of pretending the people who died because of me never existed. If I let guilt chain my feet here… I'd only be dishonoring their sacrifice."
For their sake, if nothing else, I must not stop—
Kenis's quiet murmur. Whether she was speaking to anyone else was unclear; it sounded more like a vow she was making to herself.
A resolve to willingly bear the blood others had shed for her. At Kenis's whisper, no one could find anything to say.
The heavy silence held until they reached Antonio's chambers.
"Hmm…"
Antonio let out a deep sigh as he reviewed the report the inquisitors had prepared. At first he had taken the man for nothing more than an arrogant unbeliever… but the matter was turning out far more serious than expected.
What am I to do…
Antonio paced left and right across the room, sunk deep in thought. His brooding was broken by a small sound at the door.
Tap—tap—
It was less a knock than a light little pat-pat against the wood. From that sound alone he could tell it was Ruel. A faint smile touched Antonio's lips.
"Come in."
"Yeees—ngh—!"
There was a brief straining noise from the other side, and then Ruel shoved the door open with considerable effort.
"Huff—whew! Great Priest Antonio! I brought everyone, just as you asked!"
"Thank you, Priest Ruel. You've done well."
Antonio guided the party to a table within. Steam rose gently from the tea already prepared. Demonic took his seat and spoke.
"Great Priest, for what reason have you summoned us…?"
"Mm… Earlier, there was a blasphemous man who came from the Empire. A man who treated the gods as lightly as a stray dog in the street—a blind man who could look upon a miracle and still fail to see it."
"What?! How could such a blasphemer even—!"
Kenis cried out, her face flushed with indignation. Demonic and Ruel said nothing, but their expressions were no less displeased.
Slurp—
Antonio took a sip of tea and continued.
"And so I put him through a light course of 'correction.' Fortunately, he proved most cooperative throughout the process, and this is what we learned from a bit of 'conversation.'"
A single sheet of paper slid across the table. Fine script covered it densely from edge to edge. Demonic, speaking for the group, scanned the page.
"This is…"
A faint groan escaped Demonic's lips. Antonio nodded heavily.
"After a bit of 'conversation'… we discovered that the man had contracted with a demon. He was a demon-worshipper. And yet he himself had no idea he had made any such contract."
"Wait—he didn't even know he'd contracted with a demon? How does that make any sense? And how did he even get in here in the first place? What about the inspections at the holy gates?"
Friga, legs crossed, spoke with open skepticism. Hadn't they layered triple and quadruple inspections specifically to keep demons and heretics from entering?
"How he failed to know of his own contract… I still cannot understand it. He must have staked his very soul on the bargain, and yet somehow remained unaware… Ah, as for the gates—they said he made such a scene that they simply let him through."
"Great Priest, who was the officer in charge of the checkpoint?"
Demonic's eyes glinted. To allow a demon-worshipper into the sacred Holy City—and on the eve of a funeral of such significance? Demonic had no intention of letting that pass lightly.
Antonio took another leisurely sip of tea before answering.
"I will deal with the checkpoint officer myself. Don't concern yourself. I have no intention of letting it slide."
"…Understood."
"What matters far more is this 'Demon Plague' the man contracted with a demon to spread."
"Demon Plague…"
"The name is provisional—one I assigned for convenience. We call it a disease, but it can hardly be considered an ordinary illness."
Antonio rose from his seat and walked toward the window. Brilliant sunlight was slowly being swallowed by cloud, casting a shadow across the ground.
"In a sense, the Demon Plague is closer to a curse. It slips into the victim's body and grows by draining their vital essence. At first it is no more than a tiny seed—infinitesimally small. At that stage, the victim may even appear healthier than before. The seed feeds on their essence and sows demonic energy throughout the body."
Thud—
Antonio pulled a cloth-covered box from beneath the desk. Something inside thrashed violently, making the box rock and shudder.
"Then, little by little, the victim grows violent. The demonic energy, rooted down to the bone, gradually twists their temperament toward savagery and aggression. And in the end…"
Antonio looked down at the box with heavy eyes. Then he swept the cloth away.
"Kyaah!"
"Ugh…"
What lay inside was hideous beyond description. Bulging purple flesh, tumors swelling and bursting in endless cycles, mouths and eyes embedded at random across the body, twitching without rhythm.
It looked as though several living creatures had been melted down and mashed together. Gaunt claws, grown out like bare branches from various points on its body, flailed wildly—the very image of a fiend.
"In the end, the body transforms into something like this. We tested it on several rats. As their bodies fused together, they became this abomination."
"I—insane! What the hell is that thing?!"
"…Still, at least we caught the man beforehand."
At Demonic's words, Antonio shook his head heavily. If only that were true.
"Sadly, it is not. The man claimed he had already used his power on countless people throughout the Empire. Confirmed cases alone already number in the dozens."
"Dozens?"
"'Dozens' is the polite way of putting it—no one knows the true count… Right now, the Empire is crawling with walking beasts in human skin."
Kieeeeek!! Skreeee!! Kieeeeek!!
The monster in the box thrashed madly, raking its sharp claws. Every eye turned toward it.
"The rats were small, so the seed spread quickly… but humans are larger, so we should have a little more time. We must make for the Empire as soon as—"
—KRAAAAASH!!!
A thunderous roar that shook heaven and earth cut Antonio off mid-sentence. The thin glass of the windows trembled and rattled in their frames.
—KRA-BOOM!!!
In an instant, a brilliant light flashed through the windows. A colossal bolt of lightning, splitting the world in two, slammed down from the sky.
"Eek!"
Ruel dove into Kenis's arms. At the sudden uproar, everyone shot to their feet.
Demonic's hand closed on his sword by pure reflex. An enemy assault? Or a demon? Either way, what he had to do remained the same.
"Kenis! Friga! This way!"
Demonic drew his blade and ran toward the place where the lightning had struck. Kenis and Friga followed close behind.
—KRAAAAASH!!!
—BOOM!! KRA-BOOM!!
One after another, massive peals of thunder rolled. Gigantic bolts of lightning, tearing the sky and rending the earth, crashed down upon the ground.
"This is…"
The closer they drew, the clearer the presence became. Demonic's steps slowed. This was… not a natural phenomenon, nor an attack. Something higher, incomparable… almost like divine retribution itself.
—KRA-KRA-BOOM!!!
Dazzling lightning struck once more. In Demonic's eyes, the pure white bolt was vivid—and within it, a power so vast it twisted the very laws of the world.
"Ah…"
He slowly sank to one knee. No one had ordered it; he simply did so, as naturally as breathing. As though it were the only proper response.
Looking around, he saw countless people with their heads bowed low. Citizens of the Holy City and foreigners, nobles and commoners—without distinction, every soul had lowered their heads.
Before a great being, all are but insignificant creatures. They prostrated themselves and offered worship.
—KRAAAAASH!! —BOOM!!
Thunder that shook the world. The gods' heavenly punishment. A vast fury hammered the earth again and again.
From sky to ground. All who beheld the wrath of the gods understood.
This was divine retribution. This was judgment.
The gods' sentence, punishing and executing the wicked.
—KRASH!!! BOOM!!
And that lightning fell, as it should, upon the wicked.
"Gyaaaaaaah!!! Graagh!! Aaaaagh!!!"
Alongside the great peals of thunder, the screams of an evil man rang out high and clear.
And from the very heart of that uproar, a man stepped out through a massive door.
"…What is all this noise?"
A great shield was strapped across his back.
Scratch—scratch—
The soft rasp of a fountain pen across smooth, high-quality paper filled the quiet office. An elegant gold-inlaid pen left graceful trails as it traveled across the page.
"Your Majesty. I truly do not know if this will be all right."
The Emperor of the Empire, Caesar II, set his fountain pen down with a sharp tap. The man had been saying the same thing for days now—it was becoming impossible to get any work done.
"Chancellor, everything will be fine. You know that idiot as well as I do. That fool will hang himself with his own tongue."
"Th-that may be so, but…"
Caesar soothed the anxious chancellor at his side. Even so, the man kept rolling his eyes this way and that, clearly still unsettled by something.
"Well, out with it, then. What exactly has you so worried?"
"W-well, that is…"
Caesar thumped his own chest in frustration. A man built like he could bend iron bars—why was he fretting like a little girl?
"What is it that bothers you so? Come, let's go through it together."
Caesar jabbed the paper with his fountain pen as he spoke, his tone growing irritable.
"First, we gave that idiot a forged letter of credentials. Written in ink that vanishes after a set time. With that alone, the man is no official envoy of the Empire. He's simply a fool who forged an imperial decree."
Caesar drew a steadying breath and continued.
"And a genuine envoy was sent after him, so the idiot has nothing whatsoever to do with my orders. What's more, the Empire has already charged Stultus with treason and issued a warrant for his arrest. The man committed the stupidity of fleeing into the Holy City to escape pursuit."
Caesar tapped the fountain pen against the desk as he spoke.
"Stultus and the Empire have no connection. He forged envoy credentials to evade a warrant and snuck into the Holy City. So what, exactly, is there to be so anxious about?"
"…"
Even so, the chancellor showed no sign of calming down. Caesar soothed him once more.
"Don't worry, Chancellor. Even if things go sideways, could it possibly be worse than that pig who was devouring the national treasury? Remember how Stultus blew through two-tenths of the annual budget in a single stroke. Whatever we end up shouldering, it will still cost less than that."
"…That is true."
The chancellor recalled how Stultus had embezzled two-tenths of the national treasury for a single banquet. The entire imperial household had reeled. How much suffering had it taken to clean up after that mess?
—Grit—
The soft sound of the chancellor grinding his teeth filled the quiet. Caesar smiled with satisfaction. Yes—no matter how badly things went, it could not be worse than that.
Surely that one idiot wouldn't bring down heavenly punishment?
Even if the gods had once more descended upon the earth, one fool insulting a deity would not be enough to call down divine retribution.
The gods could not possibly be that idle.
Caesar took up his fountain pen again and returned to his work. The soft scratching sound filled the quiet passage of time—until
—Bang!
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
A messenger burst through the door in a desperate rush. He had come so urgently that sweat plastered his clothes dark against his skin, and he was breathing hard.
"From the Holy City—huff—an urgent report!"
From the Holy City? Caesar felt a cold, ominous sensation brush past him. The chancellor pressed the messenger.
"What is it?! Speak at once!"
"Huff—whew—Th-the Holy City…"
The messenger spoke in a trembling voice.
"C-Count Stultus has been struck by divine punishment!!"
"…What?"
The fountain pen slipped from Caesar's hand and tumbled to the floor with a soft clack.